The Angels Of Ashinati
by HorseyNiamhy
Summary: Not a hush hush story, but a similar one as it follows the lives of 4 teen fallen angels that do not know they are angels yet. But then strange and disturbing events start happening...


_**Iva**_

Preface- Life. The word makes it seems so simple. But really it is a mass of complicated lies and deceit. You can read someone else's life, you can see it. But not your own. You can't predict your future. You don't know what you are, well at least I didn't. I had no idea what I was to become. What the people around me were to become. I didn't know what was going on in the sky above me and in the ground below me; this is something that has always puzzled me ever since that night. Because maybe if I could have warned them what was waiting. I could have stopped them before Morgana tore Carlo's throat out. Burnt his sole to ash with her demonic claws. But Ara assured me that it was not possible and that when any of the Crimdony Tribe had their sights set on a victim, it took one hell of an opponent to stop them. She'd said that only the greatest of the Ashanati Angels could ever halt them in the slightest. But that was then and this is now, and right now none of this is making sense to you. Not yet...

**Chapter 1**

My alarm clock rings loudly in my ears and I haul myself out of bed. I kick the duvet off the floor and walk out on to the landing. Peeking into my mum and dad's room, I see that the curtains are open and the bed is made. They've gone early. I catch a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror, my mass of black curls are wild and my grey eyes glimmer. My skin is pale as ever. I kick my slippers off my long legs and walk back to my room to get dressed and I spot an envelope on my bedside table. On the front my name is printed in my mother's familiar neat hand writing.

I walk down the soft cream carpet of the stairs and admire the perfectly framed pictures on the wall. They're all ordered and placed neatly and are in beautiful, intricate silver frames. The first picture is of mum and dad on their wedding day they're looking into each other's eyes and dancing. The second picture is of me at Christmas, I'm 7, and I'm holding the reins of my new pony, Daisy. I got the little grey pony for Christmas after tonnes of begging, and I've had horses ever since. Well not for the last two years, I never really ride now. The third picture is of gran and granddad sitting together in our garden on mum's birthday. They're dead now. The fourth and final picture is one of me, mum, dad and Arianna.

**Chapter 2**

Arianna is my sister; she's four years older than me and is 20 now. When I was little, Arianna always did my makeup and my hair. She'd paint my nails and she'd pretend that we were really cool grown up sisters that always went out partying. But then the crying, the screaming and the shouting started. Sometimes I'd go into her room and she would be clawing at her arms and legs. She would pull her long blonde hair out and cry. She stopped going to school. She told us that the teachers all have knives and she was scared she might hurt her friends because Jasper told her to. Jasper became a part of Arianna; he was the little devil that sat on her shoulder. And to us, she had no angel.

She locked herself in her room and I could hear her have conversations with him, she would start to cry and smash things. Mum and dad thought that by keeping her medicine regular and by taking her to her clinics that she would get better. But then one night, a year ago. I came home from riding; I kicked off my boots and shouted that I was home. Mum was at work, and dad had gone to collect Arianna's medication. Normally they never left her alone but I knew they'd be back soon. "Ari? Are you ok, do you want something to eat?" I remembered shouting up. No answer. I padded up the stairs and knocked on her door, no answer still. I tried to open it but something was barricading the way. Alarm bells started ringing, and instincts kicked in. I pushed all of my weight against the door and heaved it open. The sight that greeted me inside was one that I will never forget, it was hell. She was slumped against her bed covered in blood. The cream carpet was stained burgundy and her hair had dried with it. That's when I saw the deep slashes on her wrists. I screamed and screamed but it was one of those nightmares when you need to say something but no words come out. Her head began to loll to the side. I sprinted downstairs and grabbed the phone. I punched the numbers in so hard I thought the phone would break into pieces. When the woman told me that the ambulance was on the way, I ran back upstairs, the woman had told me turn Arianna onto her side.

**Chapter 3 **

For what seemed like hours, I waited stroking her hair and talking to her. I didn't know if she could hear me, but I did it anyway. The paramedics burst through the open door and ran upstairs to us. The haze of questions and answers that followed was a muddle of confusion. I didn't really understand anything. I was escorted out of the room as they took her away. I was praying frantically that she would make a miraculous recovery and that she would walk through the door with her long blonde hair sleek and shiny and her stylish clothes perfect again. Obviously, that never happened. I didn't know what time it was but when mum and dad got home they didn't know what had hit them. Anyways, Arianna is in a psychiatric hospital, she's got something schizophrenia. It makes her hear voices and see things that aren't there. Like Jasper. She's getting better; I go and see her sometimes. She'll sit there and just stare into space, occasionally she'll talk to you and smile, occasionally. Switching back to today, I flick the toaster on and pour some orange juice. After breakfast, I wash and sweep on a touch of mascara and grab my school bag. I lock the door behind me and make my way to school. The journey takes around 10 minutes and I know it like the back of my hand.

Our house is large with 5 bed rooms. It's neat and impeccably stylish and clean, Mum's taste. Brookfield's High is more of a zoo then a school. Kids like animals and teachers like zoo keepers, trying to control the animals, but failing miserably. The headmistress Miss Kite, is a 25 year old posh and snooty, sarcastic woman, I'm pretty sure she takes pleasure in embarrassing people. She wears tweed suits and wears her hair in a bun all the time. She wears brown spike heeled boots. When she walks she makes the sort of sound that makes kids dive for cover. The bell rings and I hurry to class. Harry Wolf, better known as Wolfy is standing outside the classroom scribbling something in his book, probably his homework. Wolfy is one of the popular crowd. He has jet black hair, grey eyes and pale skin; he's bordering 6ft as well. He'd be quite good looking if he wasn't so full of himself, not that I'd ever admit that to him. He is a bad boy and I have never said a word to him. As I walk through the door he looks up at me, and I notice the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile, I shake my head and look down. He has never even acknowledged me before! Who DOES he think he is? Mr Raven stands beside the board watching us all come in. He's an ex soldier and teaches us all like we are army trainees. He barks orders and smacks the desk when he gets angry. He is also very sarcastic. The English lesson goes on and on and I robotically scribe answers down in my books.

**Wolfy**

Preface- I remember the days when I was just an ordinary sixteen year old. I could play with my friends, go to parties, meet girls and have a laugh. Yeah, I still had Misty to look after, but she was part of my life, I couldn't live without her. Those were the days that the things I've seen for real, were things I only saw in the scariest horror films. And now they don't even make me flinch, I can't make a big deal of it; people's lives rely on me. If you'd have told me a year ago, that I would have killed people with my bare hands and that I would make people terrified, I would have laughed in your face. But then again, that's behind me. That was the past; I'm not like that now. I didn't ever want to be like that, but things happen. Now I'm sure you're completely confused, don't worry. It'll all make sense soon enough...

**Chapter 1**

The morning light flickers through the navy curtains. I must have thrown the duvet off during the night. I look at the warm bundle in my arms; she's sleeping with her head against my chest and snoring slightly. It's just before six and I'm used to getting up this early, even at weekends. I gently slide my little sister, Misty out of my arms. Her soft blonde curls sprawled across the pillow. She'll sleep with me whenever mum is out, which is always. She gets scared so I cuddle her, it's been this way since she was born. She's four now and when I was 12 I used to look after her as a newborn. Mum will be out getting drunk and getting into fights with Jason, someone she says she's known for a long time. We've never met him, but she just doesn't seem to see what he's doing to her. She will come home bruised and bloody and crying; she'll slide into bed with a full face of makeup on. In the morning, I'll get Misty washed and dressed and I make us breakfast. Normally some cereal and juice. Then I'll get mine and Misty's bags ready and put her reading record in that I've filled out from the night before, all the things our mum should be doing.

I've never met my dad, he left when I was a baby. And when I was 5, me and mum moved into a little flat where she met some bloke called Dave; she was with him for a few months. Then came Gary, they lasted a week. She was single for a few years, sober too. She got a job in the local bakery and always came home to play with me and make dinner. She would collect me from school looking radiant and making all the other mums jealous. When I started secondary school, she met Phil. Then she got pregnant with Misty. Phil wanted to stay around; he wanted to meet his daughter. Mum wouldn't let him; she got into a drunken rage and wouldn't let him in the house. He left not long after. I'm sure mum has had more boyfriends since then, and they've probably lasted a few days, if that. I hold Misty's hand and drop her off at school, if we've got time I'll take her to the park for a quick go on the swings before school. Then I'll go and meet my friends and we'll walk to Brookfield's High. I don't concentrate in lessons, detentions are normal and I answer teachers back. I used to be an A* pupil, and I think the only reason they haven't expelled me yet is because they're dreaming that one day I'll be that A* pupil again, dream on!

Back to reality, and I'm heading to English, Mr Raven is not the type of teacher you want to be having first thing on Monday morning, or ever. Remembering the homework, I scribble the last answer down in my book and wait outside the classroom. I started it last night but had to put Misty to bed so I never finished it. I'm just putting the last few words in when Iva Gregory walks past me, she's slim, tall and she's got long black curls and piercing grey eyes. Her eyes are similar to mine; I've never noticed that before. Saying that, I've never really noticed her. But today she looks different and I'm attracted to her, I give her a bit of a smile, and she shakes her head. I think she's playing hard to get. I get into my seat and wait for the lesson to start. Raven bangs his desk at the exact minute the lesson starts, he wants quiet. He explains something about more preparation for our GCSE's. "Some of you should be making an effort to really apply yourself to your exams, your failing." He barks, with a straight look at me the whole time. Wow, does he think I don't know that my grades are slipping? What an ass. I just give him a look through the whole lecture, the kind of look that says "Carry on and I might be tempted to break something, on your body." In not so many words. He doesn't even look away.

English goes on and on and I can't help but feel drawn to Iva. The way she bites her bottom lip when she's writing. I need to stop this, it's creepy. I really wish we could have a new seating plan though, then maybe I'd get to sit next to Iva and get to know her better. Raven bangs down on his desk. "I think it would be a good idea for a new seating plan." WHAT! Oh god, can he read my mind, please say he can't. I often want to punch him. "So, Mr Wolf. Move back a seat, and everyone do the same if you're on the left of the desk. The person at the back move to the front. And you should be sitting next to someone new." Oh god, I'm sitting next to Iva! Iva, the girl I seem to be crazy for. Maybe Raven can't read my mind; maybe he just wanted a change. Yeah, Maybe.

**Dee**

Preface- One Day you wake up and everything is perfect. You've got everything you've ever wanted, a wardrobe full of designer clothes, a gorgeous boyfriend, best friends and a massive house. You go to school and everything changes. Weird things happen, things you would never imagine. And then, boom! You've been dropped into a war between the underworld and the sky. Not you're typical Monday morning. But life is like that, well mine is anyway. Mine was. Always springing surprises at me. That's not always a good thing, not all surprises are good. Sometimes I wonder if there were ever any signs, I will go back through my life to my earliest memory and pray I'll find something that could be a clue and could have made things easier. Maybe it would have helped to put a stop to this so that we could have stopped them and saved the lives of millions. But then I wake up and tell myself not to be stupid, I can't dwell on things like that, I have to be strong too much relies on me, too many people rely on me. And now I'm pretty sure you're wondering what the hell I'm on about, I do the same sometimes. But when it becomes crystal clear, you'll realise just how right I was...

Chapter 1-

As I walk into my en suite bathroom, I throw my pyjamas off and into the wash basket. I stare at myself in the full length mirror; standing there in just my underwear I can see every aspect of my body. It's a ritual I have, that way I can make sure I have no bruises, spots, scratches or blemishes. And if I do I can cover them up. Believe me, it pays to look good. I should know. Primary school was a dark time for me, its something I'd like to forget. I avoid any pictures of me in primary school like the plague. I was ugly as. Braces, frizzy hair bad acne and more than a few pounds overweight. I was bullied like hell, every day. I couldn't even have a phone; they'd find my number and get to me that way. Dad and I moved to Nottingham, us two.


End file.
